GUYS GUYS GUYS I HAVE VERY EXCITING NEWS
Please meet me at the bottom when you are done reading
Chapter 93, εуλ0018
"OW!" M cried yet again. "Ow, ow ouch, ow, OW!"
Cloud cursed as he stepped on M's feet one more time. What part of his brain had convinced itself that this might possibly be a good idea? He'd never learned to dance, never wanted to – it was something he'd only ever done on great duress.
But then again, he reminded himself… it's for Tifa.
He hadn't even known who to ask to tach him – the memorable Andrea Rhodea seemed to have left Midgar for good, and Cloud wished the man the best, wherever he had found to perform. Running down the mental list of people he knew, through work, through the neighborhood, he'd finally settled on M as the person most likely to be willing to teach him, without spreading it around and embarrassing him in public.
After all, the woman ran a brothel. Despite her temper, she knew how to be discreet.
He'd awkwardly asked her if he should check in with Barret first to make sure it was okay. She'd scoffed and snorted. "Barret doesn't direct my life, and he knows what I'd say if he tried to," she'd said, wilting. "If there's anything he needs to know, I'll tell him myself."
Okay, then.
So Cloud had been slipping out from work once a week – very discreetly; afraid rumors might start that he was seeing another woman – which of course he was, but not like that – and made his way to M's new establishment at the part of Edge that had once been Sector Two.
It wasn't terribly unlike her massage parlor inside, though of course much larger. With lots of smaller rooms, for obvious reasons that made Cloud blush. You'd think after all I've been through that I'd be a little more worldly, he grumped to himself.
Worse… some of the ladies and guys in M's employ remembered him from the Honeybee Inn… causing no end of teasing until a couple of sharp words from M put a stop to it.
In any case, here he was, struggling and sweating through complicated dance steps. (He tried to think of it as the same as learning to use a sword; that seemed to help some.) He finally had to beg for a break, grabbing a nearby glass of water and chugging it as he plopped into the nearest of M's red leather armchairs.
M gracefully took the chair across from him. There wasn't as much as a drop of sweat on her brow. "I expected more." She crossed her legs under the mid-length dress she today wore instead of her favored kimono; showing very little skin, a fact that somewhat surprised Cloud. Her shoes were tossed in the corner and she'd insisted Cloud do the same, as barefoot they'd shuffled from one wall to the other. "I expected a little more stamina out of you, Cloud Strife."
"Well –" Cloud said, reaching for the water pitcher and topping off his cup before he continued – "I guess I'm not as young as I used to be."
This had been a new development. Though Cloud was still far ahead of any non-mako-enhanced man his age, compared to his younger self, he was just a little less powerful. Activities that once were nothing to him needed a bit of extra effort. What was once easy now sometimes made him feel… Well. Tired.
He'd asked Kunsel, the only person around him who might possibly understand – or have an answer. Despite living in Asgar, Kunsel still stopped at Seventh Heaven every couple weeks or so, an unannounced guest who was nevertheless always welcome. Cloud took advantage of those visits to keep in practice with his sword; Kunsel was the only availably opponent with whom he didn't need to hold back completely.
(At Denzel's insistence, he'd begun some practice with his son as well; and though Denzel showed promise, Cloud couldn't bring himself to go full throttle. He hadn't rescued the boy and seen him through Geostigma to risk having him hurt in a pretend sword fight.)
Kunsel was a few years older than Cloud, and had met a number of former SOLDIERs besides. He'd told Cloud that he seemed to be following a normal trajectory. "You'll remain consistently stronger than an unenhanced man, but age at the same overall rate," he'd said. "I've seen it several times already."
In a way it was a relief. Not that Cloud was tremendously eager to get older, but he didn't want to remain the same forever, either. (He wondered if Vincent was relieved to have the burden of immortality removed; he'd never asked, but it also helped him understand how Nanaki must feel.) Above all else, he wanted to have a real, genuine life – and part of that was having Tifa by his side, the two of them growing older together.
But there was another, more insidious possibility. Cellular degradation. Sephiroth might be gone, but those cells were still inside him. So far, he had shown no signs – and neither had Kunsel – but the possibility hung like a knife above his head. And to this, Kunsel had no answer.
He hadn't realized how much he'd been lost in his own thoughts until M placed a hand softly on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" she asked, now all concern. It was a little surprising.
"Yeah." He brushed it off. She didn't seem convinced.
In any case, the lesson was over, and this one was the last. He pulled on his shoes and rose. "You'll be at the party, then?"
M didn't answer, just looked at him, searching. For what, he didn't know. "Well, see you there," he said by way of goodbye, and began to walk towards the door.
It would be worth it to see that smile on Tifa's face.
It had taken Marlene a while to gather her courage.
She'd been so confident when she'd taken the letters from Tseng. So certain she was ready. She'd felt it then… but almost as soon as she had brought them upstairs, she'd faltered, shoving them far under her bed, the loaded package remaining there to become the stuff of dreams and nightmares.
But she couldn't put it off forever, and today was the day. She scrunched down on hands and knees, grabbing the wrapped box and dusting it off as she pulled it into the light, hesitating before she ripped the brown paper clean off.
The first one, she lifted out. Or in fact, the last one. She'd chosen to work backwards, moving into the past with every one, resurrecting the love story that had been the two of them. The familiar whiff of perfume she had scented when Tseng brought the package to her; the eighty-ninth letter he'd acquired on her behalf, her mother's final words to her father in life.
How are you? I wish I knew where you were.
Had her mother and father finally discussed this between the two of them? Or had they let go and moved on? She could, of course, ask them herself, but part of her held back, thinking this should stay just between Aerith and Zack.
It's already been four years now…
The pain flooding the words. Her mother, not knowing the tragic fate that had befalling her father; nor that their daughter was growing up not far away, safe and sound. And her father? How he must have felt discovering how long it had been, the years he'd been in Hojo's clutches.
This is the eighty-ninth letter I've sent to you… but I don't even know where to send them anymore.
Tseng caretaking the letters that Aerith had faithfully given him. Bound by rules not to reveal her father's whereabouts; but would it have caused Aerith even more hurt? Had Tseng even known how Zack and Cloud had been imprisoned for Hojo's sick experiments?
Hojo, the sick bastard who kept his evil work so secret that not even the Turks could not find out.
I really hope that this final letter that I'm writing gets to you…
And it had… only for her father to be butchered by Shinra on a cliff overlooking Midgar. So close. What if her father had made it that final lap – instead of a mako-poisoned Cloud struggling through it on his own? Would he have been the hero of the story? Or would it have left Cloud a vegetable, and the fate of the world to be changed?
She'd seen so many possible futures in a few short minutes with the White Materia, futures she couldn't process at age four but she'd come to understand with time. But to this one, she had no answer.
By the way, the flowers are selling so well. They make everyone so happy – thanks to you, Zack.
Marlene knew she was going to cry, the warning signs as the tears began to well. She wanted to sell flowers with him. Both her parents swore the Lifestream was an adequate substitute ("It's like a second home," Aerith had said), but on her own end, Marlene had regret, and sometimes that hit just hard enough.
The pain that Aerith hid behind her smile. The never-ending wish to see someone long gone.
Salty drops trailed down her cheeks.
Over the next few hours, she went forward… and back.
Marlene knew all too well that things had to be the way they were, why her mother had done what she had done. She herself would have likely grown up a prisoner of Shinra.
And experiment. A slave.
But that was little consolation as her parents' love unwrapped itself in words before her eyes. Line after line about wishes and dreams, as Aerith wrote him sometimes light-hearted scenes of her everyday life, other times anguished pain that he was still gone. Aerith wrote slices of her life – helping out at the cafe, the orphanage, all over Sector Five. Between the lines was love and fear – the love that had never stood a chance, and the fear that the other would suffer for it. Aerith had told her that at some point, she tried to tell herself Zack had found another, a way of taking away her own hurt, but it had never really worked.
Marlene had uutterly lost track of time when she finally laid the first letter back carefully among the rest, folding it neatly back into the envelope as she had the other eighty-eight. She slid the box gently back ynder her bed; not that Cloud and Tifa would pry, but even an accidental discovery would raise questions that she wasn't ready to answer. Not yet.
She was almost fifteen, and as soon as she'd entered womanhood, her power had proceeded at an accelerating rate. She could contact Aerith, even Zack, at will now; she'd used to have to wait until she was asleep, but could now put herself at will into an instant of trance, a brief flash in the real world while she spent as much time as she liked in that intervening space between here and the Lifestream. She and Denzel had tried to reach each other, and though they hadn't succeeded, Marlene was certain that in time they could. Soon enough, she would try with Mina, with Vits, with all the other young Geostigma survivors, branching out to others from there.
It would take time… but it would happen.
Her eyes fell on the copy of LOVELESS by her bed, the one Vincent had presciently given her. The ancient epic, said by some to have been the words of the Cetra. How many times had she pored over every word, trying to find some answers?
She rose from her bed, pacing nervously. The sun had descended down to the horizon in her hours of reading, and the fading light shone goldne into her Denzel had of course moved his own bed downstairs years ago; she'd decided to place her easel in that space instead. A stretched canvas waited, while the desk nearby was littered with paper and paint.
She'd progressed through the years from crayns to colored pencils (which were still her favorite), finally recently starting to paint. Devoid of any particular inspiration, she'd kept it simple – the bridge outside her window and the angel statue it bore. She'd neber learned why that angel was there, but she'd always found it comforting; a reminder that she did, indeed, have people who watched over her. It was a quarter done, and she briefly contemplated working a bit to get her mind off things, finally deciding she was too scattered to focus on it.
She walked over to her full-length mirror, staring at herself. So much to do ahead, and she was starting to understand why her mother was so afraid of the sky, of freedom. So many choices – sometimes it seemed easier to just have them made for you.
But that wasn't what she wanted. She would face the future she had been given, glad to have the opportunity to give people hopes and dreams. Even as she was frightened of the choices she might have to make to get there.
She plopped on her bed, heading her head fall backwards to punch the pillow. Taring at the ceiling, she found that all she wanted to do was thinl. The past few hours had left her mind swirling with emotion, and she didn't know how to make sense of it all.
How to embrace the overwhelming power of the Lifestream; how to learn to listen. It could see both to past and the future, but there was little reason to visit the former; its alternate possibilities were already gone. It was only the future that mattered.
The future was not set in stone; the ending was not yet written.
She let her mind drift.
Her nerves were frazzled; she itched to take the edge off. It gave her urges she'd only recently learned how to handle; something she at first hadn't known how to satisfy, but now knew better.
With a deep breath, she let her hands travel to her neck, and slowly down her body.
It had been a matter of getting to know her own body better, but she hadn't known who to ask. Tifa had told her the basics, but had mostly focused on the emotional side. Marlene knew Tifa would answer her questions, but would be so embarrassed that Marlene couldn't bring herself to ask.
Cloud and Tifa had become more careless through the years, as the children grew older and Denzel moved downstairs, sometimes forgetting to close the door completely. And though Marlene couldn't hear everything – whew, she sure didn't want to! – even with the door firmly shut, she could hear enough to know when Cloud and Tifa were enjoying each other. The walls were thinner than they thought.
But she did notice the next day how they changed towards each other – Cloud looked at her a little longer, touched her a little more often – and how Tifa would smile brightly back.
Marlene thought she might want some of that for herself.
She could have asked Mina – despite a four-year age difference, they were actually pretty good friends – but that would mean she would have to think about her brother doing it and ewww that was so gross. Kyrie? The bar manager was a possibility, but probably wouldn't give her the best advice. Not the kind that she was looking for.
Finally she settled on M – hoping the woman at least wouldn't talk about her dad! Making the phone call, M had given her some very frank advice, starting with instructions to go find a hand mirror.
M's primary advice had been to explore on her own, though she'd given some general tips on what might work best. And M had been very right – Marlene had been fascinated as she slowly discovered the capabilities of her body, what it could really do.
And though she'd known roughly how it would work, the first time she made it happen, she'd gasped in surprise as waves of release washed over her, leaving her wide-eyed and breathless. She tickled a little, still a little embarrassed about what she was doing, but the Planet itself prodded her on to explore this gift of a body she'd been given.
She knew she wasn't ready. Wouldn't be for some time yet. "Don't rush it, Marlene," M had told her. "You have plenty of freedom to make up your mind. You'll know when the time is right."
(Then, to her surprise, M released an unusual intimacy, telling Marlene her own story. Age fifteen, a Wutaian refugee with no family and no prospects, she'd attached herself to Chocobo Sam – ten years older, but handsome, and able to give some desperately-needed security. Three years she'd been with him, until it was ultimately Andrea Rhodea who had helped her branch out on her own.
"It was consensual, Marlene, but that doesn't mean it wasn't a mistake," M had finished. "Take your time. Make your first man someone who is worthy of you.")
Marlene had thought about that a lot.
She knew she was nowhere near ready… but eventually she'd have to choose a partner. She didn't have anyone she'd been bonded to since childhood, like Cloud and Tifa, or Denzel and Mina; nor was she a naïve young girl like her mother had been. In any case, she had a lot riding on her choice, knowing what the future held in store for her. She needed to choose someone who could stand by her side; someone of quality to father her eventual children. No ordinary boy from the neighborhood would cut it.
She'd thought briefly of Kunsel, before remembering that was one of her dad's best friends. And she wasn't entirely certain he liked women, anyways. But it was the same person she came back to, over and over, no matter some might find the choice surprising.
In the end, her heart chose on its own.
M had told her to find what places she liked best on her body; that men would want to touch those with their fingers, their lips (a fact that had actually shocked Marlene – men DID that? They LIKED it?) But she pictured it now, imagining he was the one doing the things to her. Thinking of other things they could be doing. How would it feel?
She'd probably be blushing crimson the next time she saw him. Would he be able to tell she'd been thinking of him in this way?
Sensation spiked, a few moments before she had expected, but let herself breathe it in as M had instructed. Her lungs heaved as she let herself ride out the pleasure that was one of the many gifts of the Planet itself.
Exhaustion drifted behind; it had been waiting for the perfect moment to catch Marlene, and she found herself finally spent, her turbulent emotions dissipated. She gratefully closed her eyes, sparing just a moment to kick off her shoes as, fully clothed, she found herself drifting off to sleep.
It had been ten years since Meteorfall.
The hurt had been there at first. They'd started the Seventh Heaven Meteorfall party as more of a memoriam, in those first months of the bar's opening, when everyone still had something to mourn. But as the years went by, and the party became a Seventh Heaven tradition, it became easier to see it as a happy occasion as people, including Cloud himself, found joy to fill the empty space.
A celebration of survival.
In fact, they'd started having to limit the party to invitation only; no one seemed too offended as Edge grew and other establishments introduced Meteorfall parties of their own. But as the Seventh Heaven soiree reduced to a core group of friends, family, and bar patrons who had been coming there so long that they might as well ne, it became more casual and intimate as well. Tifa now opened up the piano for the occasion, confident that she could trust her guests and no rando would break anything on it. Her wine flowed, so much that she'd have to reach outside of her own stash; while she still made the wine for Seventh Heaven itself (and served it only there) she'd been force to outsource to other vendors in order to keep up with the increasing demand of her other successful businesses.
It didn't surprise her at all when her customers told her it tasted better at Seventh Heaven itself. They also let her know that bottles of her own were being sold at insane prices in Wall Market due to its scarcity. This, despite the fact that Tifa rarely sold it at all. Most of it was given away by Tifa herself. Rufus Shinra had asked for a case, and she had told him he could put his name on the waiting list just like everyone else.
She'd gotten much better at the winemaking process itself, but the most important ingredient still was love.
She'd chosen an auburn-copper dress for tonight; a relatively simple cut, since what she wanted was the color. The exact color of her eyes; she'd wondered if Cloud would put that together, but as it turned out, it had been the very first thing he had noticed.
("The color's right, he had told her, the day it had arrived and he'd walked in to her holding it up to herself in the mirror, "but it will never shine as much as your eyes do." She'd had no response other than to kiss him senseless.)
As bar manager, Kyrie of course was there, along with Evan and Vits, now fifteen. The years of caretaking for the boy seemed to have forced them both into some kind of maturity. Tifa had been wary at first, giving Kyrie the job mostly because of Vits (Evan's business hadn't been particularly thriving back then), and it took some time to really trust her, but despite being endlessly snarky, Kyrie had eventually proved herself surprisingly capable and reliable. Once she was given increased responsibilities, she'd really risen to the occasion.
Several thieving employees had been confronted and disposed of under her watch.
Younger bartenders worked tonight instead; Tifa noted with satisfaction that Kyrie, even on her day off, was keeping a sharp eye on the staff. Cloud had spent most of the evening close to the bar, mostly with their core group of friends, though he was able to make small talk with the crowd much more easily than in previous years. She saw Yuffie taking a shot, and Cloud wisely pushing his away, only for Yuffie to double up. She might have expected to find Yuffie puking in the bathroom later, but that would only happen if they put Yuffie on any kind of mechanical conveyance tonight. Fortunately, Yuffie wouldn't be going much farther than the family room couch, though Tifa suspected she'd find the room spinning plenty there anyways.
She looked over to her beloved husband. He was wearing blue today. BLUE. She'd talked him into wearing something other than black, but couldn't really make up her mind what else might suit him, and then he'd actually surprised her. A long coat, royal blue at the top and split halfway down to become cobalt on the bottom; white whorls adorned the cuffs and hem. Underneath, an indigo T-shirt also hemmed in white rode over black pants, and to top it off… a slender scarf, lighter than his eyes, but still a perfect cloud blue.
(Vincent wore the black for them both instead, subbing out the red cape for a long black coat with similar decorations, only… also in black. She supposed that qualified for formal wear, in Vincent's world.)
Denzel wore a similar shape, but brown leather, with orange embroidery all over. (Preferring brown to black was one of the few ways in which Denzel hadn't decided to emulate his father-hero.) Mina's, a ballerina in strapless white tulle embroidered in vines, long opera gloves. Marlene, a slinkier (but still mobile) dress of abstract oblong patterns in various shades of pink and purple, reminded Tifa of nothing so much as a seashell. Barret wore a wide-breasted black suit that was surprisingly flattering, with a hem decorated in flowers, a not-so-subtle nod to Aerith; M beside him, a curtain-draped red column, gold and black decorations in a reverse of her usual color scheme. But everyone, to some degree, had spruced up for the occasion.
The party had been in full swing, and Cloud had consumed an adequate enough amount of alcohol that despite his nerves, he decided he couldn't put this off any longer. Walking to the center of the floor, he held up his hand to signal he wanted to make an announcement.
Murmurs slowly spread through the crowd; Marlene was the first to notice, tapping Tifa on the shoulder to get her attention. Others started to form a circle, but Cloud hardly noticed, his eyes focused solely on Tifa.
The questions in her eyes would be answered soon enough.
Cloud wasn't good at this. He didn't like speaking in front of people…. Unless he was on a mission. Yeah, that's what it is, just a mission. He took a swig of the cocktail at hand, looking futilely for a place to put it down (Kyrie materialized to take it from him) and scanned the dozens of eyes now looking at and waiting for him.
Tifa, he told himself.
"As most of you know," he began, "Tifa and I married almost five years ago." He certainly had her attention now. Her eyes went a little wider; she stood up just a little bit straighter. Wondering what came next. "We did it quietly. Just the two of us. But since we didn't have a formal wedding… I always felt like I maybe shortchanged my bride just a little."
He knew others were staring at him as he crossed the room. She was utterly perplexed; he rarely got a chance to truly surprise her. But this just might do it.
He stretched out a hand to her. "Tifa Lockhart, may I have this dance?"
She froze for a second; then nodded, speechless, placing her hand in his. He pulled her gently to him, encasing her in his embrace; extending their arms as M had showed him, while their new stereo let out a slow, languid tune. One he'd picked for the occasion on the advice of Marlene, a careful co-conspirator. Just as M had taught him, he gently glided her towards the center as she faithfully followed. The music rose; together they began to sway.
Other couples swiftly followed. The first was M, who shot him a look of gleeful victory before letting Barret sweep her away; seeing how gracefully the large man moved, Cloud began to think. Another couple making a weird sort of sense. Cid, laughing as he dipped his tiny wife. Their baby was in the bassinet on a table, while their four boys orbited around them laughing in glee. Denzel and Mina, gazing into each other's eyes with a longing he knew all too well. Kyrie and Evan, as their adopted son looked on.
The music drew on, and some began to switch partners. Mina danced with some of the other boys from the neighborhood. Denzel let them be, but glared sharp daggers from the bar. Yuffie with anyone she could talk into it, denying the slow beat to dance with wild enthusiasm. Marlene danced with everyone – her father, her brother, his girlfriend, Kunsel, Yuffie, Vincent, basically everyone down to eight-year-old Cid Jr; even Nanaki, making for a near-comical scene as the Watcher boldly stood on two legs as he'd learned to do so long before.
But Cloud was unable to let go; all the more so when she laid her head on his shoulder and sighed, closing her eyes in a gesture of trust as she blindly let him lead wherever he wanted to take him.
Her warmth was becoming scorching; he thought how much he loved to be close to her at night. How they just seemed to fit together, he filling her neither too little or too much; they seemed made for each other, in dancing as much as making love. An act that was not just physical pleasure, but joined them as one, mind, heart, and body.
He remembered something he'd once heard, he couldn't remember from where. Whatever that is that keeps widening your heart, that's not only the power inside you but the love. The only purpose grand enough for a human life was not just to love, but to persist in love. Cloud thought he might be starting to understand. How to ask for what he really wanted, and how to return it in kind. How to keep his promises; and every promise, a reunion. A reunion of love.
He still wore chains – but now, they were ones he willingly chose.
He glanced over at his children – no, children no more. But many others at the party were. Many of those even born since Meteorfall, letting him relive innocence and childlike wonder through their eyes.
Was this their Promised Land? Had he and Tifa finally found it? Could things possibly get better than this?
There were both happy and sad anniversaries. All were the same in the end - a reunion with their memories. They faced them together, bound by a promise.
He only reluctantly let go when Marlene herself cut in. Tifa started, opening her eyes (leaving Cloud wondering if she had actually fallen asleep) but shook herself aware as she let her daughter lead her drowsy self back into the throng. Cloud took advantage to go back to the bar and lean back, catching a breath or two as the young bartender handed him a glass of water.
His wife and family, his happiness. He didn't tear his eyes away until Marlene let Tifa go, approaching him for the final dance, her energy depleted but not yet gone.
Cloud took her hand, and Marlene led them both forward. Tifa had found herself in Zangan's arms, possibly the only man who had never made Cloud feel even the teeniest bit jealous. After all, he owed Tifa's life to the older man. But Tifa, over Zangan's shoulder, tossed him a flushed look of joy that let him know… he'd done good.
"Let's see what M taught you," Marlene teased, once they were out of Tifa's earshot.
"I'll have to tell Tifa eventually," Cloud grumbled. Marlene whirled him to the side. She was… slightly taller than him, a fact he was usually able to ignore.
"Just let her wonder for a little while longer," Marlene advised.
Zangan had let Tifa go, and off to the side he could see her laughing with Yuffie, with Shera, with Kyrie and Elmyra. Cloud hadn't realized for the longest time how hard it had been for Tifa to open up to female friends again. Maybe in some ways harder than the two of them opening up to each other. It was the guilt, the guilt that haunted them still… though every day its hold was just a little lessened.
Marlene took a seat at the piano, banging out a couple of songs. Tifa winced. She'd be lucky to even get a C rank. But she was grateful that Marlene continued to try; she treasured the lessons they shared, just as she and her own mother once had done.
Sometimes they didn't even practice piano; sometimes they just sat and talked. Tifa listened to the joys and worries of a young girl becoming a woman, being the mother she'd never had. But Marlene urged Tifa to talk as well; and though certain topics were off-limits – she certainly wasn't going to talk about the things they did in their bedroom! – Tifa found herself in those moments talking about Cloud. Cloud and how she really felt about all they'd been through and what they had together.
And Marlene would just sit there, listening with a smile, finally throwing her arms around her mother just before Tifa started to cry.
The dance floor seemed to have dispersed; maybe everyone had their fill. Denzel was now snapping pictures of the party, but plenty of people were taking pictures with their phones, which seemed to be the latest thing. Even so, Denzel's would still be the best, and many from tonight would join the others that absolutely coated the walls of Seventh Heaven, overflowing up the stairs to the second floor.
M sidled up to Cloud. "Well, well, it seems you did me proud after all," she said, smokiness in her voice. "You've proved me wrong more than once, Cloud Strife. A man who has cheated death too many times to count."
Cloud had no idea how to respond.
"You never answered my question," M continued.
"Which one?" Cloud asked.
"Did you find your purpose? In a woman… or two?"
He considered. "No," he finally replied. "There was always only one."
He might have loved others… but she had always been the one.
"I just want to make sure Edge gets the same attention Asgar does," Tifa said to Reeve.
"You haven't been forgotten here. We've got you running fully on a solar power grid," Reeve told her. "That was a high priority. Remember all the outages when you were still trying to pull off the pre-Midgar grid?"
"How could I forget?" The early Seventh Heaven, when you never knew when the lights would go out. She'd served more than a few evenings by candlelight. Cold food, warm drinks.
Barret, of course, had been keeping her apprised of his progress on the energy front. He called every week, and Tifa talked to him for nearly as long as did Marlene; Cloud had been almost jealous, despite the respect the two men had built up over the years, until he started to understand what those conversations really meant to Tifa.
("Don't take this the wrong way," she had said carefully. But Zangan, Barret… they were my support system when you… weren't there," she finished softly. She hated to even bring it up, hated the guilt in Cloud she risked triggering, but she needed Cloud to understand. "None of that diminishes my love for you. If anything, it makes it stronger."
Cloud had thrown his arms around her tightly, and buried his head in her shoulder.)
"Vegetation is expanding, so we're concluding the use of solar power is allowing mako contamination to dissipate, and the Planet to heal," Reeve told her. Tifa thought of Zack's grave; she hadn't been back to the spot, but Cloud went often, and reported the flowers there were growing in ever-expanding profusion, just as were the ones in the church. "It's not unthinkable that one day… the Midgar Wastes will be wastes no more."
"What about the world beyond?" Tifa fretted. "How are they doing?" Rocket City. New Nibelheim. Wutai's capital. The cities that were becoming the future.
"Well, believe it or not, Cloud has been a huge help there." Cloud actually didn't talk that much about his work at the WRO, but he'd seemed very focused lately. "What he learned from Strife Delivery Service translates well to creating global supply lines."
Tifa leaned forward in interest.
"We were even able to repurpose old chocobo stops. We actually changed the logo in honor."
Reeve picked up his phone and tapped to pull up a photo, sliding it over to Tifa.
"Oh, no, Reeve," she laughed. "You did NOT."
The chocobo on the logo had been repainted. To resemble Cloud's face.
"He hasn't told me anything – " but Reeve gently held up a hand to interrupt. "The project is too new and too expansive for Cloud to really have much to say about it."
(Tifa could picture it when he would start to talk. He'd get a flash of excitement, charming in its near-childishness, and then he'd tell her everything she could possibly want to know.)
"It'll eventually mean some travel for him, Tifa – " and suddenly an old fear surfaced, of him leaving and never coming back – but no. She knew how far he'd come. What kind of a man he'd become, and she knew he'd never leave again. That was one thing marriage had taught her; her simple acceptance had not been the true commitment he had offered her, and that she had promised to return. And the special way he'd honored it this day – surprising her with a simple dance – it reminded her how long it had taken her to see him clearly, and the ways he surprised her still.
In fact… he was starting to get a little bit restless. It might do him some good.
Her beloved wolf could never be entirely caged.
"I've been thinking education should come next," Tifa suggested. Especially with Denzel's date of departure drawing near; another year or two, and Marlene would likely be going away as well.
"That's coming along too," he assured her. "Denzel is in the first official university class. But by this time next year, we will have a larger, more organized student body."
"I'm going to miss him," Tifa said softly, sadly.
Reeve smiled, sympathetic. "Tifa, you'll have to find something else to distract yourself. What else is on your plate?"
"Well – " and she brightened how she started to tell him how money and culture arriving in Edge, had led her to decide on a riskier next venture. Fifth Act. A theater, an allusion to the famously missing ending. "LOVELESS will have to be a the first production, that's pretty much a given, but I really want to give all kinds of artists a chance."
"Edge has certainly changed," Reeve commented. "The Midgar scrap is diminishing. Most of the Plate has been removed." Tifa wasn't sure how she felt about that; under the Plate had once meant home.
"Oh! I almost forgot! Did you know greenery is starting to show up in Edge? And not just at our own garden," she told him. "It was dark when you got here – " Reeve had come straight from work, even still wearing his trademark blue robe – "so maybe you didn't see. But flowers… They're starting to bloom." Aerith, I wish you could see. You'd have been so happy.
"Now that IS interesting," Reeve mused. "Maybe the area is recovering even faster than I thought. We have a tree-planting program in Asgar. I should find someone to look into duplicating it here."
"I wonder… is it better to plan a city, or just have it arise? Just like Phoenix." She smiled. "I wonder if it's time to rename Edge."
"Then New Nibelheim will have to be Odin," Reeve chuckled.
"Rocket Town?" she giggled.
"Bahamut?" he suggested. "It flies… Sure, why not. Bahamut it is."
Finally, Tifa was able to laugh out loud.
"But seriously, Tifa, Asgar had to be planned, in order to get it up so quickly. So much to do; I have to find the most efficient way to get it all done."
"I understand, Reeve. I gotta tell you... Another reason I decided on a theater is because… I can only be so involved anymore." She shrugged. "I already outsource my wine. I don't have the energy to make sure the menu I created is being made properly. I have to delegate, find people I trust, because I can't do everyone's job." She looked around her; Seventh Heaven was still her favorite of her establishments, still her home. They'd come so far from opening to a desperate clientele and a barter system… though Cloud's mother's stew was still a house favorite. "I guess it all ties together, huh? But I can't fix everything. Just make a contribution."
Reeve leaned in a little closer. "That's all any of us are doing, Tifa," he told her. "Even me."
"How are your studies coming along?" Vincent asked.
Vincent was not the short to ask just make conversation. Nor did he ask the sorts of questions usually meant to indulge children.
Marlene knew if he asked it, it was because he wanted the answer.
"They're… going." Marlene shrugged. "It used to be smaller study groups, not it's more like full-sized classes. It's become more formalized for the young kids, though."
"Tifa?" he asked.
She nodded. "She's pretty heavily involved in the organizing, but the teachers are often guests. Cid's lectured. So has Shera." She cocked her head. "You ever going to give a lecture too?"
"I do not think I would have much to offer," Vincent replied.
Marlene looked off to the side, towards Barret, talking with the aforementioned Cid. Probably business; they often worked closely together. "Papa was saving for my education, but Shinra was the main avenue, and he sure wasn't going to send me there," she said. "He told me that he was thinking probably Cosmo Canyon, or maybe Rocket Town – that was when it was still a town, not a city – but every time he mentioned it, he'd get all sentimental and weepy."
Most people would have made a joke then at Barret's expense. Vincent was not most people.
"But now it's all free."
He said nothing, just let her continue.
"Aren't you going to ask me what I want to be?" she half-demanded. "That's usually what people want to ask me right about now." A question she was sort of sick of hearing, mostly because she hadn't a clue about the answer.
"I have a feeling you are close to figuring out who you are and who you are to be." His eyes traveled to her bracelet, which she kept loaded up with materia to fall back on as an excuse, in case she goofed and did something at a time or place she shouldn't have; but truthfully, it had been a long time since she'd needed any materia at all. "Very close."
"Leaving so soon, Grandma?"
Marlene had caught her at the door. Elmyra had made only a few cursory goodbyes, pulling Tifa into the kitchen to explain why she was essentially sneaking out, but Marlene was quicker.
"I have to catch the train, dear," Elmyra reminded her. "Say hello to… you know."
Marlene nodded. "Will do. She – " the loaded name was left unsaid – "thinks you might be able to reach her yourself, though not vice versa. At home. Through the flowers."
Elmyra touched her check. "I'll try. You need to pay a visit, too. Betty wanted me to tell you she got into dance school, and she needs to call you soon."
"Dance school, huh. I'm glad for her. But there's really people here you should meet. Reeve. Kunsel." Reeve had long since apologized to Marlene for bringing news of Aerith's death, but he didn't know the rest. Not yet.
But he'd never had his chance to make his amends to Aerith's mother. And Kunsel… Elmyra should just meet them, thought Marlene. Both men were in the crowd; Marlene took a step to pull them over.
Elmyra put a hand on Marlene's shoulder. Goddess, she looks more like Aerith every day. How can they not see it?
Because who on the Planet would expect it? she silently answered her own question.
"I'm just not ready." Ten years, and there were still things hard to face; she wanted to leave this party with a happy, not a heavy, heart. "I'll let you know."
Marlene nodded, and threw her arms around Elmyra. She held the door open, allowing her grandmother to escape without further distraction.
Talking to the flowers? It was worth a try. Worst thing, her neighbors would just think she was a silly old lady talking to plants. She was sixty-five now; she could get away with such things.
But as for the other…
Someday….
"You know it was a good party when even Vincent came," Denzel began.
He'd been a little disappointed Rix hadn't made it, but at the last minute, his best friend had called, all apologies, saying he'd gotten held up at his shop and it was getting so late that he was just going to go to a Meteorfall party that was closer by. Denzel had hastily assured him it was okay, that hopefully they'd see each other before Denzel left but if not, he was always welcome at their new place.
Denzel was holding the remainder of a nearly-empty beer. Marlene just had a glass of juice before her. Cloud and Tifa allowed them both to drink – in moderation – if they wished, but Marlene didn't find the stuff particularly appealing, even on a special occasion like this.
"Reeve, too. Actually took a break from work, though I think a lot of that was just to come see you. You guys do kind of have a special relationship."
Denzel didn't doubt it. Remember when I told you children were the future, Denzel? Reeve had told him at the party. I'm glad to see yours being brought to fruition.
"Did you read the letters?" Denzel asked, changing the subject. "How did they make you feel?"
Marlene didn't know how to put it in words. "Weird, I guess," she told him. "But I guess it made me think… Every moment matters. Cloud said Aerith told him that once. And now that you're going away…" She didn't know how to finish; her emotions were still so scattered inside.
Her world was changing around her.
A memory, or us? Tifa had once asked Cloud. She'd only heard the story years later, from Tifa, when it was so old that it could be told without pain. We need freedom, not from the memories, but the power they have over us. That had been Aerith's response, when Marlene had told her the story. Tifa said the right thing. I never wanted Cloud to be lost in memories of me. I wanted him to move on.
And now Marlene understood why Aerith had been so adamant. Those years of waiting fruitlessly for Zack had taught her how quickly time could go by… until Aerith had no time left.
But they still needed memories. It was what the Lifestream ran on, after all. Memories… and the feelings that came along with them.
"We should make another blanket fort before you go," Marlene suggested. "For old time's sake."
"The last one was when… Uh…" He was too embarrassed to say it.
"Denzel," she mock-sighed. "You're going to be living with a woman. Might as well get used to saying it. When I got my period."
Denzel blushed beet red. Marlene laughed.
"I still think you should talk to Cloud and Tifa about things," he said, when his face finally returned to normal.
He regretted his words once Marlene's face drooped. "It's not time yet, Denzel. You know perfectly well… I have a different path from you. Similar, but not the same."
"Yeah…" he trailed off, thinking. They were different people; they had different strengths. Marle could sense wrongness from people. She could also heal a soul that was hurt. ("In the Forgotten City, I could feel it from you, Denzel," she'd told him before. "It frightened me so bad.") She could talk to the flowers; Denzel and Mina were learning to do so as well. Mina had learned she could "talk" to materia in almost the same way.
And Denzel? He was a tech geek, but he felt like he could maybe understand the mathematics, or maybe it could more accurately be called the music, of the Lifestream.
"You guys don't get the… visions." Marlene shuddered.
Denzel leaned in, worried. "Marlene… what is it?"
"I can… See things, Denzel. Possible futures, and they're not all good." Her eyes grew far away. "The night of the plate fall… when my mom connected me to the Lifestream… The white Materia showed me things I was too young to understand. But since that day with the blanket fort… they're coming faster. Much faster. It's the price I have to pay – I'm getting stronger. The rate is accelerating. But that means I can see further where the Lifestream goes. Into the past… and the possibilities of the future."
"So how do you know which once comes true?" he asked.
"That's the thing. I don't. Some feel more likely than others, but it's only once the future becomes the past, that it's obvious which one had to be."
"Sounds a lot like destiny," Denzel observed.
"I guess… only not? Mom thinks things are just plain chance. Dad isn't sure what he thinks about it all."
"Reminds me of what Vincent says. About possibilities narrowing."
"I don't think Vincent is too far off. But that's not all there is to it." Marlene thought for a moment. "It's like… The Planet wants things going a certain way. But we don't have to do exactly what it wants us to do. We can talk back. We can make choices."
Denzel said nothing, just listening.
"And that's the big difference between you and me, Denzel. I have to be able to reach the entire Lifestream. Embrace it, even. So you can help you and everyone else." She hung her head. "I'm the one born with the burden. I have to live. No matter what. To honor my mother and father. My grandmother. People who died… so we could be here today."
Denzel leaned over the table to hug his sister before she cried. "I'm here to help. So is Mina. All your other friends, of course." Not every friend, of course; he meant the Geostigma children. The ones who understood.
"Thank you," she sniffled. "I'm counting on it when you guys get to Asgar and start meeting them. You should be able to tell them apart."
"The glow," Denzel agreed. The same glow that spiked in the intimate moments he and Mina shared, making them so much more wonderful; but never went away completely. "I know you and I haven't been able to reach each other, but Mina and I feel like we're just about there between us two."
"More than that. You should be able to tell right away. Like, I can just feel it." Marlene smiled. "Maybe try using the flowers? That's how I did it, at first."
Denzel had always wondered. "Why flowers?"
"Flowers are new life for the Planet. Just like a baby. They mean energy is flowing through it." She pondered. "But more than that. Flowers mark and guide our choices. You can call those choices destiny or not, but they still do it."
She paused, taking a sip of her drink before continuing. "Aerith made the connection. But the White materia showed me things. Then the flowers." She threw up her hands in frustration. "It would help so much if you could talk to Mom yourself. I don't know if I'm explaining this very well at all."
"We're trying," Denzel promised. "I mean… She was able to call us on the phone. Send us all to the church."
"She still needed the flowers then. But eventually, we'll all have to learn on our own."
Denzel looked at her. "Are you sure you're still talking about Aerith, Marlene?"
Was she? "You know," she replied, "I guess maybe I'm not." Maybe I'm thinking of me. Or you, since you're leaving and stuff." She looked at her brother. "Remember when you first came to us?"
"Mostly," Denzel admitted. He'd been shivering and sick; it was hard to find the memories below the pain. "You were the one who told me I was going to be part of the family."
"Well, I was right, wasn't I?" Denzel nodded. "I told Cloud something like that, too. Before you came. But he took a much longer time to understand."
"Well, that's what I get for making him my role model," Denzel mock-grumbled.
Marlene laughed. She'd never told Denzel that was part of the reason Aerith had reached for him, the similarity to Cloud. And this was one thing she probably wouldn't tell him – even when they told each other nearly everything else.
"But I worry about you," Denzel continued. "Mina and I… I guess we're slowly finding our own Promised Land. But how about you, Marlene? When will you find yours?"
"I'll get there. Geez, Denzel, I'm not even fifteen yet!" She giggled, hoping to deflect, hoping he wouldn't realize other things she wasn't ready to talk about. Because, also like Cloud, Denzel could get very protective; but some decisions needed to be hers alone.
Or occasionally, only involving the other party concerned.
"How do you even do it, Marlene?" he asked her. "How do you navigate this whole tangled web of relationships? You brought me into the family, you helped me make friends early on – but really, you seem to be able to do it for everyone. It's like you're the center of everything."
"I really don't know! I just kind of… do it. And it's not like choice or destiny. This part is all me," she announced proudly. "But it comes back around, too. Cloud and Tifa… they got thrust into so much by circumstance. That's why they've been trying so hard to face the world. We both owe a lot to them."
"We should tell them that," Denzel suggested.
"We should. We will. But they already know," She assured him. "We pay them back by moving forward. Making memories of our own."
Denzel sighed. "It just feels like everything had to come with a sacrifice." He looked around the bar. "This won't be my home anymore. Well, I guess it know it will, only not. You know what I mean!"
"I do," she assured him. "They told me once, sadness was the price to see it all end. We don't have to face sadness to move on. We thank them by finding our own happiness – our own Promised Land." She rested her chin in her hand, thinking. "Papa's been talking about moving to Gongaga, you know. It was an idea he had before."
"M would never," Denzel answered. "Can you see her moving to the country and raising chickens?"
"I think that's what's holding Papa back," Marlene commented. "But you see? A sacrifice, either way."
She reached out a hand, placed it over his. "Mom can probably reach you if she tries hard enough. It's beyond what Dad can do. But I'd really like you to meet them yourself. I think if you can't do it on your own, maybe I can pull you in. Not today or tomorrow, but soon."
"I'd like that," Denzel said softly.
"Then it's settled." Marlene suddenly yawned. "You know, I'm beat. I think that this party has finally gone on long enough." She rose. "Good night, Denzel. We'll try. Soon."
Quiet had settled over the night.
Yuffie was passed out, as expected. Nanaki, on whom alcohol had no effect, had lay down in the family room to keep an eye on her. Reeve had pleaded work when he left in the middle of the evening. Barret would be staying with M, while Kunsel had the guest room. Vincent, as expected, had simply… disappeared.
They'd left Marlene and Denzel talking at a center table as they went up the stairs. The table where once their younger selves had sat with Cloud and pored over maps, Tifa remembered. Denzel, the new older brother, reading the maps to Marlene when the word was too hard.
It had been more difficult days then, but she wouldn't trade them for the Planet itself.
They stopped at the door to their bedroom, turned to look at each other. As if their thoughts were one, they turned and entered the open door to the garden.
The younger children had been full of energy and wanting to party, right up until they had collapsed from exhaustion. Cid and Shera had gotten their own awake just long enough to get their large family back to the airship.
Cloud put his left arm around his wife. She looks so beautiful tonight it was only with difficulty that he tore his eyes away. He caught sight of the angel statue on the bridge that arched over their street. How many times had he seen it? How many times had he actually looked?
A terrible day, long ago. Finding Tifa beaten half to death, unable to search for his missing children until she awoke. He'd stared at that statue for hours, afraid, wishing it would give some answers.
Maybe this time, it could.
The children at the party had made him think, the more so now that his own were nearly grown. Wasn't it just yesterday that we were drawing with crayons on the floor? Those memories were fleeting, but they had so much power.
Even the little memories, Cloud. If we've learned anything, it's that.
He thought how he wanted those children to have a future. How he wanted a better world. Were SOLDIERs monsters… or angels?
A hero hadn't been what he thought. A hero was a guardian.
That's what heroes do. They save people.
Something the woman by his side had once said, on a night they had made a promise that had become their beginning.
He looked down at her. Not very far down; he was reminded once again how he was barely taller - but somehow he felt all the more acutely as if they had been made to fit each other.
"How do you feel about once last dance?" he asked.
Tifa smiled. Eventually, she'd have to find out how he'd learned. But for now… she just let him take her in her arms and begin to lead. Cloud, the man who did not dance.
Together they began to glide, under stars that whispered and flowers that spoke. Sometimes friends, sometimes lovers… and sometimes they just danced.
So. I'M BACK. But that's not my very exciting news. It gets better.
This story is finished.
No, not "post it all by tomorrow" finished. There's a lot of work still to be done. But all the pieces are in place.
I was actually feeling so overwhelmed. I didn't know where to start with the rest. What I ended up doing is listing all the individual scenes I needed to complete it – a little less than a hundred. And if inspiration wouldn't hit, I would literally use a random number generator to pick a scene, pull it off the stack, and just do whatever I could for that scene. Many are essentially ready to go; a few harder ones will need to go through several more iterations of revising to get to where I want them.
See, to make this story, I drew on everything. OG replay. Watched the rest of Compilation. Viewed endless theoryvids. Ever Crisis. Dead Fantasy. DFFOO (RIP – I loved that game). Got my hands on every FF7 official book out there; read translations of the rest.
Then Rebirth dropped… and my head exploded. (And yes, I absolutely FELL OVER and that early trailer where Marlene is talking to Zack.)
So, like the entire rest of the community, I kinda screeched to a halt to play a few hundred hours of Rebirth – and I'm still only halfway through Hard Mode! (Max Dood said he experienced a sort of separation anxiety once he was done. I feel you, Max.) There is just SO MUCH. Now, ten, fifteen years ago novelizations were kind of a thing for games, a way of getting MORE out of our faves… but at today's level of technology, the point is kind of moot. How on the Planet would you novelize Rebirth? What possibly could you add? I am STILL finding things. Since Remake, I've been calling the entire project "SQEX's ultimate fanfiction for itself."
So there will be no retcons. It's beyond me (sorry, no GS kiss). But you will see various nods creeping in throughout. There were a few small things, like changing later Nanaki lines to his new younger voice, but no substantial changes. Only improvements.
ONE more character will be added to the character list when the time is right, because I finally figured out what I wanted to do with their plotline. And I figured out the chapter that needed to be included to tie it all together… and exactly how to do it.
But mostly, I had to take a step back and tell myself, "Alluma, you cannot possibly need any more lore, just write the damn thing."
I took my rough draft – about 66K words – and dumped it into a separate file to work on. Which means it will easily balloon to an extra 100K words of fic, maybe more. This "short" chapter came out at just under 10K words. Fortunately, I'm in a job transition and actually have a couple months off. The next chapter was expected to be longer, so give me maybe a week out to get the next one up.
How do I keep going? It's pretty simple in this end. I NEED TO FINISH THIS STORY. Like, physically need to give Cloud the happy ending he so desperately deserves. And when things aren't going the greatest for me, it's a way to give my characters the ending I want for myself.
Wanted to make a small comment on feminist issues. I feel I have a responsibility to write things the way I see them, but also, it was very important for me to include these; in fact, I went OUT OF MY WAY to include plot devices to ensure (1) all sexual activity is consensual, even if risqué and (2) women always have control over their own bodies. That's one reason for the birth control materia – it's something every girl in Midgar, Edge, and other cities gets automatically upon hitting puberty, like a rite of passage, and it's not considered a moral issue. In fact, they openly snicker at small towns that DON'T do this, thinking it's backwards.
Or for example, I think it's pretty likely Ifalna was assaulted in canon, because Hojo is a sick fuck. But I did NOT want that in my story. Or, when I was making up M's backstory for this chapter, I don't think it's impossible, given the nature of Wall Market, that she could have started as a sex worker, but that started to feel to me a little like she could have turned to it out of desperation, so I wrote her with Chocobo Sam this way instead. (Yes, she runs a brothel, but that will all be explained, don't worry.)
Credits for this chapter (for ff dot net, put a slash where the asterisks are, until they stop being weird about including links)
The art I had in mind for What Denzel Looks Like Now was, indeed, found for me by the always reliable Stef*Zayana. Link: https:** *ah_yoshimizu*status*1316752138953912320?t=08OX5GUd6Caf_ntCLOE55A&s=19
I was also able to find some pretty good visuals for what Marlene and Mina look like; not perfect, but very close. At Walgreens, of all places. And they were right next to each other, too (granted, Mina is not blonde, but she's thinking of changing that). Marlene:
https:** .com*en-US*products*product*nice-n-easy?shadeSKU=070018116611 Mina: https:** .com*Clairol-Permanent-Medium-Blonde-Blondes*dp*B07BYZG5G1*ref=sr_1_1?dib= 8kd3DzX6glw_B9r4pp97cFaQCmiMijfZJhsNG5hE7c_hB8qTJ4NyD-aKuKEpm13xGd-ylmlDMLEvhu-euUPUlsy3AgY8SWXzNt_jj406LEHbWPDA1A1hXndivG9KbLov1K2K8gafmZk20CLRlCCdL15d9DplLfrKnS_I57A-zfEeIWcH61Uj-pzNgC3_zVEuTVmobVKa7Aksuks8a_EKOZrj_KnCU0_ -cBjbm3j_r9ZN7cScF8fDld18N50nJV55EMl7B1EI&dib_tag=se&hvadid=631492127928&hvdev=c&hvlocphy=9031953&hvnetw=g&hvqmt=e&hvrand=16147545891745386867&hvtargid=kwd-892784137100&hydadcr=7659_13589732&keywords=nice+and+easy+medium+blonde+8&qid=1719604624&sr=8-1
The altered chocobo stop logo was part of an April Fool's joke my friend g_luceroth did. Feel free to check out their other art and merch in the same chibi style! https:** *g_luceroth*status*1795030702544593158?s=46
The quote about persistence of love is from The Secret Life of Bees (papaerback pg 289). I read it and was like, "that is PERFECT for this stage in the story!"
The final scene was inspired by this piece of art: https:** .com*nightyswolf*art*Good-to-be-Alive-406947112
What the hell is everyone wearing to the party? I stole most looks from the 2024 Met Gala, link for all: https:** .com*celebrity*red-carpet-dresses*g60661601*every-look-red-carpet-photos-met-gala-2024*?utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=mgu_ga_har_md_dsa_hybd_mix_us_20769084234&gad_source=1&gclid=CjwKCAjw1emzBhB8EiwAHwZZxaIGdTCxuTSYDkfkH6Yc8NUXXIYxK8DDqxTL-lkazKBb2p_66kUJthoCh14QAvD_BwE Tifa: #41, Pamela Anderson, only in the auburn color mentioned. Denzel: #73, Lena Waithe, only brown leather not black. Madam M: #97, Liu Wen (the one-shoulder look is definitely her, and I picture a high slit on the side we can't see; I just changed it in my head to red with embroidery. Mina: #108, Sydney Sweeney. Vincent: #119 Lewis Hamilton, only with a more abstract pattern because you KNOW Vincent is not going to wear flowers for ANYONE. Marlene: #175, Iris Law, only without the cutouts and put dark purple where the black currently is. Barret, #219, Odell Beckham Jr.
Cloud's outfit? I made it up. But not entirely from scratch. I didn't find anything I loved on my own, but my friend had put up a screenshot of their XIV character in the Resshi outfit
https:** .com*ffxivstore*en-gb*product*786 so I began with the royal blue in the fourth slide. Extended the coat to be cut to the knees and a different color halfway down (check Zack's Ever Crisis "Guardian Style" for an idea https:** *characters*zack*costumes*11), used the T-shirt from XIV and Cloud's regular ACC black pants, and then when I was coloring it, the pencil I picked up for the scarf was legitimately called CLOUD BLUE (Prismacolor # 1023).
That's it! Hope you enjoyed, and I will see you… much sooner than last time.
-Alluma